


holy water cannot help you now

by lettertotheworld



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Vampire Sex, everyone look away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-27 23:36:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettertotheworld/pseuds/lettertotheworld
Summary: in which misty accidentally turns cordelia into a vampire





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dumb halloween trash fic!! i know it's literally been forever but i still love these two a lot and i uhhh miss them <3

Misty lingers in the doorway and watches Cordelia flit about her bedroom, stepping into her heels and moving over to her dresser to put her earrings in. Misty’s been hovering, she knows, but only because she’s worried. Or maybe less worried and just…enthralled. There’s something about Cordelia, like this, that draws her in even more than usual. She’s too much of a coward to ask Cordelia if that has anything to do with the spell.

When Cordelia glances her way and smiles warmly as she fastens the back of her earring, Misty’s heart swells, and she thinks it’s probably not the spell. She thinks she’s probably just in love.

“I think I’m the one who has to be invited in,” Cordelia says teasingly.

Misty grins and shrugs, stays leaning against the doorframe.

“Just playing it safe,” she says. “Making sure you’re not gonna eat me.”

She feels her cheeks flush as soon as the words leave her mouth, and she’s incredibly grateful that Cordelia elects to not take that any further. Cordelia does give her a strange look, though; all hooded eyes and the hint of a knowing smile. Like she has about ten suggestive comments ready to roll from her tongue that would put Misty’s accidental one to shame.

“Do I look okay?” she asks, crossing the room and stepping closer to Misty. She runs a self-conscious hand through her hair. “The mirrors in this house have decided that I’m invisible.”

Misty’s not sure how she’s supposed to answer that when Cordelia looks like every dream she’s ever had. She’s wearing a long, elegant, black dress, and her hair is tucked behind one ear, longer now that it reaches far beyond her shoulders. The mascara she’s wearing extends her lashes just so, and Misty struggles to tear her gaze from Cordelia’s eyes to focus on her lightly smudged lipstick.

“Um…” Misty gestures with her hand to her own mouth, but shakes her head, forgoing an explanation and deciding to just fix it herself. “Here.”

She doesn’t think much of it until her thumb is brushing over Cordelia’s bottom lip, then suddenly she can’t think of anything else. She gently wipes the bit of lipstick away, feels her stomach tie into knots as Cordelia watches her intently. Misty looks up at her, still carefully smoothing her thumb over the corner of Cordelia’s mouth, and her pulse kicks as she catches the scent of Cordelia’s perfume. It makes her lightheaded, being this close to her.

Cordelia lifts a hand to Misty’s wrist, not to ease Misty away, but to hold her there. To keep her right where she is. Her fingers are like ice on Misty’s skin, and it stirs up residual guilt from earlier, reminds Misty that Cordelia is in this state because of her. Because one of Misty’s enchantments on the decorations for the Halloween party tonight had rebounded into Cordelia and turned her into this; cold and pale and bloodthirsty.

Misty slowly drops her hand back to her side, and Cordelia’s loose grip falls away as Misty takes a step back.

“Yeah, you look pretty damn good to me,” she says, then clears her throat because her voice has gone hoarse. “Still feel bad for doing this to you.”

“It’s only a temporary spell,” Cordelia assures her with a sympathetic smile. “It should wear off in a few hours.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks quietly, and Cordelia nods.

“I’m cold, but I think I’ll manage.”

While Misty may not be able to reverse the spell, she can definitely aid in keeping Cordelia warm. She quickly shrugs off her shawl and drapes it over Cordelia’s shoulders, and she seems immediately grateful, turning her head to the side and burying her face in the fabric.

“You can keep that, then,” Misty tells her, tugging lightly on the edge of the shawl. “Looks better on you, anyway.”

Cordelia smiles shyly, and Misty feels a twinge of endearment deep in her chest.

Cordelia’s been planning this Halloween party for roughly three weeks, and overall, she’s very pleased with how it’s all going. Everyone seems to be having a good time, dispersed throughout the living area and into the kitchen, talking and laughing over music that is loud but not deafening. She’s by the snack table at the doorway in the kitchen, because someone has accidentally knocked over the bowl of candy corn, sending pieces flying and scattering onto the floor. Naturally, she is compelled to count them all as she picks them up, another side effect of the spell, and she’s currently on number twelve when Coco approaches her.

“No offense, but how am I supposed to commemorate this party on Instagram when you won’t even show up in any of my pictures?”

Cordelia glances up from her crouched position.

“I guess you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way and just…remember it.”

Coco sighs dramatically and leans against the table as Cordelia continues to count candy corn, reaching up to place a few in the bowl.

_23, 24, 25…_

“I can’t believe you didn’t call the whole thing off,” Coco says.

“Why would I do that?” Cordelia asks, and Coco shoots her a look that communicates, _because you’re a bloodsucking monster_. “All the girls were really looking forward to it.”

Coco’s quiet for a moment, and Cordelia counts the handful she’s just gathered.

_38, 39…_

“You like it,” she finally says, and when Cordelia looks at her, her eyes are narrowed and accusatory, but they hold mirth rather than judgment.

“What?”

“You like being a vampire, you weirdo.”

Cordelia feels a wave of embarrassment hit her, and she attempts to laugh it off in a way that she hopes sounds dismissive rather than culpable.

“I do not.”

It’s true that she feels more powerful like this, and she doesn’t know why. Like her magic has been refined; tuned and fixed to perfection. Her senses are heightened, the blood in her veins fortified with this new brand of magic that she’s never felt before. If she could somehow keep this spell confined within her forever, she might consider it. If it wasn’t operating on a countdown clock, she might not mind.

She just likes feeling strong after a lifetime of feeling weak, like she could protect anyone in this house who needed it at any given moment. She likes having this unwavering confidence that being the Supreme does not always give her, and maybe Coco is not entirely wrong in her assumption.

Cordelia rises from the floor and lets a final handful of candy corn clatter back into the glass bowl, rests her hand on the table. Cordelia’s capacity for denial has never proven to match Coco’s affinity for divination, and she suspects Coco’s silence means she’s waiting for Cordelia to admit it. Because she knows she’s right.

“I can’t explain it,” Cordelia concedes. “Misty feels terrible about it, but I don’t know how to tell her that it feels…_good_.”

Coco snorts, an amused sound that catches Cordelia off guard.

“Why don’t you just show her how good it feels,” she suggests, and Cordelia feels a blush rise to her cheeks.

“Meaning…?”

Coco just shrugs, casual and unbothered as she pops a piece of candy corn in her mouth.

“You know what they say. ‘May luck be yours on Halloween.’”

Cordelia blinks at her.

“Thank you for that.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, I’ve had some champagne.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Cordelia says flatly, and Coco makes a face at her.

Before Coco can pry any further, Cordelia sees Zoe sneaking up behind her, palms outstretched and landing quickly on Coco’s shoulders with an emphatic, “_Boo_.” Coco jumps, knocking into the table and causing her to tip the bowl of candy corn as Zoe laughs. Cordelia watches with a sigh as the candy pieces spill and scatter again.

“Goddamn it.”

She doesn’t get a chance to talk to Misty until after the party is over. Cordelia finds her outside, sitting on the top step on the porch, and the sharp bite of autumn air stings her already chilled skin. She pulls Misty’s shawl tightly around her before she sits down beside her, listens as the wind shakes the leaves on the trees and as bats screech faintly and flutter about beneath the full light of the moon.

“Hey,” Misty says, offers her the ghost of a smile. “Hope I didn’t ruin your Halloween too much.”

“What are you talking about?” Cordelia asks with a soft laugh.

“I don’t know, I just…” she shrugs and shakes her head, seeming to deflate and collapse in on herself, “sometimes I feel like I’m better suited for my swamp. None of this…other shit.”

Hearing Misty’s guilt put into words makes Cordelia’s heart wrench, and she instantly reaches out to curl a hand around Misty’s bicep, then interlocks their arms. She moves closer because not only does Misty radiate much-needed warmth, but Cordelia also just wants to be near her, as near as she can, especially right now with Misty so forlorn.

She believes it must stem from Misty failing the Seven Wonders, as if she now has something to prove. Maybe not even to anyone in particular. Maybe only to herself. Cordelia hopes Misty knows that she deserves to be here, that she is worthy of calling this place her home, but she imagines this incident hasn’t exactly done anything to alleviate that pressure for her.

“I spent last Halloween alone in my office,” Cordelia tells her, resting her head on Misty’s shoulder, “trying to bring you back to me. You could have made me anything. You could have turned me into a ghost, and I would…haunt this house with a _smile _as long as it meant I could have you here instead of there.”

Misty exhales a short breath of laughter through her nose, and her wild hair lightly tickles Cordelia’s face, but she would sooner freeze to death out here than move away from her.

“I missed you,” Misty says quietly, and Cordelia closes her eyes so it hurts less.

Cordelia is well acquainted with a few feelings. She’s known neglect and abandonment, courtesy of Fiona. She’s experienced betrayal. Humiliation, pain, hopelessness, regret. But the one thing she’s come to understand greater than all else is what it feels like to miss Misty. She knows it so well that it’s now a part of her, this craving she has for Misty’s presence in her life. She sought it out so much to the point of maintaining Misty’s shack for the year she was gone, searching for pieces of her to soothe the ache.

That’s how Cordelia will describe love to anyone who asks: tending to a person’s space. Caring about their things. Nurturing their environment even if they’re no longer around to see it. Twice a month, she changed Misty’s sheets and swept the floors and watered her garden. And she loved her, every day.

“Can I be honest?” Cordelia asks, and when Misty hums, she allows herself a small grin. “I kind of like it.”

“What?”

“I mean, aside from the bloodlust. I could do without that.”

Misty seems to sit with this for a moment, and she’s probably reconsidering all her negativity, Cordelia thinks. Retracting it. Either that, or Misty is going to be upset with her for letting her believe this has all been a huge inconvenience. For letting her stew in her own self-doubt all day.

“Well, shit,” Misty says, and she sounds amused. “What’s it feel like?”

_It feels new_, she thinks. The magic that accompanies her supremacy is indeed powerful, but it’s been repackaged. Repurposed throughout the generations, whereas this is something different, something entirely her own.

“Like I’m in control,” she answers without thinking, and it pours out of her, the quiet power that has been brewing within her all day. “Like there’s nothing inside me except for this…hunger.”

She hadn’t really sorted out how to explain it, and she feels her cheeks grow hot at Misty’s silence, hopes Misty withholds her judgment because she knows it sounds ridiculous. Pitiful, even, that she’s spent her entire life feeling powerless so she now clings to anything that makes her feel greater than what she has always been.

“I know it doesn’t make much sense,” she adds.

“Makes perfect sense,” Misty finally says, her voice lower and softer than before. “I like it, too.” She nudges with the arm that Cordelia’s got a hold of. “But maybe it’s just you that I like.”

Cordelia raises her head from Misty’s shoulder to meet her gaze, even and slightly dark, and Misty’s smiling in an alluring way that implies she wishes she were doing something else with her mouth right now. Cordelia’s stomach twists with want. She uses her other hand to graze her knuckles over Misty’s cheek; her skin is like morning frost, she knows, but there is a fire burning her from the inside, and she needs Misty to feel it.

That’s why she kisses her. Not because of the spell. Not because she’s so full of vitality that she needs an outlet, but because Cordelia needs Misty to understand she only feels most powerful in her company. Of everything else in their world that breeds energy and strength and magic, this is where Cordelia’s heart lives, where she always finds herself, and if the same sentiment rings true for Misty, then she doesn’t care what sort of power occupies her veins. It’s all the same to her as long as Misty is here. Finally, finally here.

Misty inhales sharply and kisses her back slowly, so slowly, and tilts her head just so, and Cordelia sighs a soft exhale. She loosens her arm from Misty’s to place her hands on either side of Misty’s neck, and Misty’s mouth opens under hers, and they become all lips and tongue and teeth, all soft breathing and small noises from the back of throats. Until Cordelia brings herself to remember their location, that they can be seen from the vantage point of the windows behind them, and while there’s no need for discretion, she definitely wouldn’t mind a bit of privacy.

She pulls away and still feels the phantom touch of Misty’s lips, rests her forehead against Misty’s and her hands on her face before she moves to stand. She holds one hand out to Misty and Misty takes it, rises to her feet.

Misty doesn’t remember the walk to Cordelia’s bedroom; only that Cordelia has her pressed against the door with her lips on hers. Only that her hands are at Cordelia’s waist, that she has a thigh between Cordelia’s legs, and their nights have only ever ended like this in her dreams. She wants this for more than tonight, wants Cordelia always, and the feeling intensifies when Cordelia moves her hips forward. Misty pushes her thigh harder against her and revels in the quiet moan muffled by Misty’s lips.

She tugs at Cordelia’s dress, debates on just ripping through the fabric, but instead hikes the long skirt up so she can slide her hand beneath it. Misty lets her fingers dance over Cordelia’s inner thigh before she touches her, and Cordelia’s head falls to her shoulder as she whimpers. She rubs at Cordelia through her panties, two fingers dragging over her clit, and Cordelia drops open-mouthed kisses to Misty’s neck before she sinks her teeth in once.

Misty gasps, her hand stuttering to a stop, and she shivers from the sting of pain, desire coiling so tightly around her lower stomach that she thinks her knees may give. Cordelia takes notice and pulls back to look at her apologetically.

“Sorry,” Cordelia says softly, a remorseful frown pinching her face as though she believes she’s hurt Misty.

Misty just shakes her head, brings her free hand to Cordelia’s face, and her voice is close to a whisper when she speaks.

“Do it again.”

Cordelia releases a breathless laugh, nudges her nose gently against Misty’s.

“I’m not sure you want that,” she tells her, and it almost translates as a warning, further propelling Misty’s need until she is aching with it, consumed.

She thinks of the hunger Cordelia spoke about and craves a taste of it.

“I want you,” she says, grazing her thumb over Cordelia’s lip. She presses the pad of her thumb to one of Cordelia’s slightly sharpened canines, feels it prick her skin. “Like this.”

Cordelia exhales slowly and takes Misty’s thumb between her lips, sucks gently before releasing it. She kisses Misty again, and it’s less hurried. Less frantic and more deliberate, and Misty whines when Cordelia’s tongue slides against hers.

But Cordelia does do it again. And again and again until Misty is writhing and rolling her hips and begging for Cordelia’s lethal mouth between her soft thighs.

She wakes to sunlight and a warm arm curled around her, and Cordelia is _warm _again, sheets bunched up at their waists. Their legs are tangled, and Misty is smiling before she’s even opened her eyes. Cordelia must catch it, must already be awake because she starts running her fingers along Misty’s side.

“You’re warm,” Misty mumbles sleepily.

Cordelia exhales a laugh.

“You sound disappointed,” Cordelia says, but there is an edge of apprehension to her voice. Like she’s worried Misty only liked her for her fangs, or…something to that effect.

She turns so she’s propped on one elbow, and Cordelia’s gaze is soft and gentle, her hair messy and unkempt, and Misty thinks no spell could ever come close to replicating what she feels when Cordelia so much as looks at her like this. Whatever form it takes—when they are nothing, when they are dust—Misty will always want to be loved by her.

Misty leans in and kisses Cordelia, slow and lingering, and she’s going through it all in her head, trying to pick out the right words. But Cordelia smiles against her lips, and Misty supposes she already knows.

“Disappointed that we can’t stay in this bed forever,” she says after she pulls away to press a kiss to Cordelia’s cheek, and she watches a frown suddenly form on Cordelia’s face, feels Cordelia’s hand come to rest at her chest as she sees her handiwork on display.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs, brushing her fingertips across Misty’s collar bone, her neck, her shoulder, passing over violet-tinged bruises. She brings her other hand up to her face in embarrassment, but Misty feels her lips quirk with a grin as she remembers Cordelia biting her chest, her hips, the insides of her thighs. The day hasn’t even begun, and she already feels warmth pooling low in her stomach.

“It’s okay,” Misty says, removing the hand that Cordelia has splayed across her face and kissing her palm. “More than okay. But if you wanna make it up to me, I have some ideas.”

Cordelia bites her lip as she tries to stifle a radiant smile, and compared to the last time Misty failed at magic, she thinks this time turned out a hell of a lot better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just like. smut idk. take me to church.mp3. i love vampire cordelia too much i need to b stopped....anyways happy halloween again!! :~)

With every steady cant of Cordelia’s hips, Misty shivers, and it reminds Cordelia of how cold she must be pressed up against Misty. But she doesn’t complain. Instead, Misty’s grip on her waist tightens, pulling her closer still. Cordelia tugs on Misty’s bottom lip with her teeth, and Misty whines in the back of her throat, arching up and bucking her hips.

“Cordelia,” Misty pleas, voice pitched higher, and her eyes are dark as she stares up at Cordelia. “I want your mouth.”

It’s spoken as more of a demand than a request, and Cordelia’s gut clenches, a wave of arousal settling through her. She leans down and presses her lips to Misty’s neck, stroking her tongue over her skin and sucking bruises to bloom. She longs for a taste of the blood coursing through Misty’s veins, and if Cordelia listens closely enough, she can hear Misty’s pulse, beckoning her.

Misty writhes beneath her as Cordelia moves to her chest. She sinks her teeth into the swell of Misty’s breast, and Misty brings her hands up to tangle in Cordelia’s hair. When Cordelia flattens her tongue over a nipple, Misty’s grip tightens, blunt nails biting into Cordelia’s scalp. She takes Misty’s nipple into her mouth, scraping her teeth over it and savoring the low moan that Misty emits.

She nips at Misty’s chest a final time before trailing her lips down Misty’s stomach, biting her navel, her hip. Cordelia situates herself between Misty’s thighs, lifting one of Misty’s legs over her shoulder.

“God,” she breathes, her lips pressed to the inside of Misty’s thigh. She bites at the soft skin once, twice, then nudges her nose against where Misty’s thigh meets her hip. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Cordelia’s not physically capable of wasting another second. She glides her tongue over Misty, slow and smooth, and Misty moans her name when Cordelia’s lips wrap around her clit, then whimpers when Cordelia releases it. Cordelia licks at her, dipping her tongue and curling it into wet warmth to taste her. She holds Misty steady with the hand she has on her thigh and moves back to her clit, alternating between nipping lightly and sucking. When Misty tugs at her hair, Cordelia groans softly, matches her pace to the roll of Misty’s hips until Misty is rocking desperately against her mouth.

“_Cordelia_, I’m…”

The rest of her words fall away as the tip of Cordelia’s tongue traces over her clit before she sucks harder, feels Misty shudder and tense and cry out. She coaxes Misty gently, her mouth lingering as she presses a final kiss to her before Misty is urging her up with a raspy, “C’mere.”

She straddles Misty’s waist as Misty sits up, and Misty cradles Cordelia’s face, messily bringing their lips together. Misty’s tongue brushes over Cordelia’s, and she whines at the taste of herself. Cordelia is thrumming with desire, completely overtaken by it, and her breath is heavy when they part, Misty’s hands settling at the small of her back. She rests her forehead against Misty’s.

“Touch me,” she begs, rolling her hips forward, and she is cold, but inside she is _burning_, burning, burning.

Misty brings one hand to Cordelia’s thigh, running it along the smooth expanse of skin, then sliding it between Cordelia’s legs, grazing her fingertips over her. The light contact is enough to cause Cordelia to grind down, bumping against Misty’s hand with a barely stifled moan.

Cordelia is filled with so much ache, so much want, so much _power_, that she thinks she could come just from this. Just from Misty’s fingers rolling over her clit. But Misty slowly, slowly sinks a finger into her, then another, and Cordelia wraps her arms around Misty’s shoulders, holding to her as she rides into a rhythm.

After having her mouth on Misty, after feeling her come undone, Cordelia knows she won’t last long; especially with the amount of magic that is currently sparking along her bloodstream. The feeling is only heightened when Misty gazes darkly at her as she steadily pumps her fingers. As Cordelia meets each thrust.

“Bite me,” Misty breathes, baring her neck just slightly.

Cordelia’s hips falter in their movement, and she feels a surge of desire travel through her spine. This is somehow different than all the other times she’s had her teeth in Misty’s skin tonight. Misty looks like she wants her to mean it this time. 

She swallows hard, stares at the tilt of Misty’s jaw and follows it down to the column of her throat.

“What if…”

She’s ready to tell Misty that she doesn’t want to hurt her, but Misty interrupts her, grazing her thumb over Cordelia’s clit. She meets Misty’s gaze with a shuddering breath, blue eyes pleading and desperate.

“Please.”

Misty’s voice is a whisper, and Cordelia exhales shakily, lets her head fall to Misty’s shoulder. She presses a kiss there, then mouths at her warm neck, and Misty is so _warm_, Cordelia wants to steal every modicum of heat she possibly can. She sucks the skin into her mouth, laves her tongue over it once before she carefully bites down, lets her canines pierce Misty’s flesh. Misty releases a throaty moan. She curls her fingers, presses them forward, and when Cordelia tastes blood on her tongue, she grinds her hips down harder.

She chases the high, swears she feels her eyes roll back in her head from the sheer pleasure of it all as she takes what she needs from Misty in more ways than one. Cordelia’s bite finally eases in favor of releasing small, breathy moans into Misty’s shoulder as her muscles tense, her thighs squeezing around Misty’s hand. Faint streaks of crimson paint Misty’s neck, and Cordelia comes with a low sound that borders on a sob.

As Cordelia tries to level her breathing, Misty gently takes her hand from between Cordelia’s thighs and uses her fingers to tenderly swipe away the blood remaining on Cordelia’s mouth, down to her chin. Cordelia grabs Misty’s wrist, takes Misty’s fingers into her mouth and sucks them clean with a quiet moan.

She has known limitless power upon becoming the Supreme, has unearthed a magnitude of strength within her that she didn’t know she possessed. But she has never been so consumed with the full capacity of her magic like she is right now. She has never been scared of herself, of her potential, like she is right now. With the taste of Misty on her tongue like this, she could level entire cities.

She wants more, suddenly and greedily and intensely.

“I want to make you come again,” she says in Misty’s ear, hears Misty release a soft exhale.

“I’m all yours,” Misty tells her, and that is all Cordelia needs to slide her hand between them, lightly dragging her nails down Misty’s stomach.

She runs her fingers over Misty’s already sensitive clit, rolls it between her thumb and forefinger and relishes Misty’s moan.

“Can you get on your hands and knees for me?” Cordelia asks, and she keeps her voice low and sweet.

“Jesus,” Misty nearly whines before she obeys and turns over.

She rests her palms flat against Misty’s back, smooths her hands over muscle and scratches her nails from Misty’s shoulder blades to her lower back. Seeing Misty like this sends an aching wave of hunger through her, every nerve ending in her body set alight.

Cordelia leans forward and drops a kiss on Misty’s shoulder, braces herself on one hand and brings the other between Misty’s legs, gathers wetness on her fingers and drags it to Misty’s clit. She wonders if Misty is already close based on her shallow breaths, the way her thighs quiver. She wants to ask Misty if she knows how wet she is for her, wants to ask how badly she needs her, but Misty rolls her hips in a silent plea, and Cordelia has no intention of denying her, too dizzy with power.

She pushes two fingers into Misty, and Misty’s arms nearly give way from the sensation as Cordelia sets a rough pace that Misty matches strenuously with her hips. Her wrist begins to ache, but she doesn’t slow her rhythm, and Misty brings a hand up to rub at her own clit, breathing a steady stream of whimpers.

Her hips stall, and Cordelia feels her clench around her fingers. Misty lets out a string of curses as she comes, collapsing onto the bed with her face in the pillow. Cordelia crawls up to her, brushes Misty’s hair over to one side and presses her lips to Misty’s neck followed by a gentle bite.

“Cordelia,” Zoe says, and she begins the rapid freefall back to reality, no longer wrapped in the bliss of last night; rather, in the front entryway, attempting to pack away the Halloween decorations. She blinks once as Zoe tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Were you even listening?”

“Girl, you know she wasn’t,” Queenie says, shaking her head and tearing down an orange streamer from the wall.

Cordelia feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, I’m…I’m not feeling too well. You girls can go. I’ll take down the rest of the decorations later.”

Zoe and Queenie share a puzzled look before Queenie shrugs. Zoe drops the cardboard box filled with fake ghosts and strings of Halloween lights on the floor, and they mutter under their breaths as they walk away, but Cordelia ignores them. She walks over to the stairwell and settles onto the first step, lets her head fall as she closes her eyes and tries to breathe.

She misses the feeling like a drug, would consider casting the spell on herself if it wasn’t so ridiculous. She also misses, perhaps even more desperately, the rhythm of Misty’s fingers inside of her.

“Not feeling well?” Misty says, and Cordelia’s head snaps up to match the voice to her figure in the doorway. Seeing Misty only stokes the flame within her, her gut wrenching at the way Misty smiles so knowingly at her. She walks over and sits beside her, nudges Cordelia lightly. “I bet I can make you feel better.”

Cordelia feels the hint of a grin creep onto her face.

“I know you can,” she says softly.

“Might even be able to screw up another spell, if you’re lucky.”

Cordelia makes the motion of crossing her fingers and smiles when Misty’s laugh echoes through the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u sam for helping me sm w this!! im beyond grateful!

**Author's Note:**

> u can come talk to me on twitter or tumblr @bourbonstdyke :~)


End file.
